Alma

I lay in the ICU, silver toxicity turning my blood to lead. A chandelier had sliced through my shoulder, poisoning me and the secret life growing inside my womb. The doctor was frantic, gripping the phone. "Alpha, the silver has reached her marrow. She needs a transfusion of your blood. It's the only way to save the Luna and the... the potential life." I waited for my husband, Blake, to rush to my side. Instead, his voice came through the speaker, cold and clinical. "Keep the reserves in storage, Doctor. Ariana is in shock from a scratch on her finger. She might need it if she faints. I cannot risk depleting my supply for Caroline." The room went silent. In that silence, my inner wolf gave one last shuddering gasp and died. She couldn't survive the rejection. And the tiny spark of life in my womb flickered out with her. He had stopped our child's heart to protect his mistress's panic attack. I didn't scream. I reached for the black leather notebook on my bedside table. My ledger. For five years, I had tracked every insult. Every time he chose Ariana over me. We started with 100 points. He walked through fire for her and left me to burn under the debris. -20. He gave the family heirloom to her to 'soothe' her. -15. He refused the blood. He killed our son. I wrote the final number. Total: 0. The debt was paid. The bond was bankrupt. I signed the divorce papers and vanished into the storm, leaving a dead son and a dead marriage behind. Two years later, I returned as the most powerful architect in the region, the rare White Wolf. Blake, now a ruined, disgraced man, knelt in the rain before me, begging. "I can fix it," he sobbed, clutching the hem of my dress. "I can earn the points back!" I looked down at him with cold, dead eyes. "The ledger is closed, Blake. You hit zero."

I was the perfect fiancée to Archer Sterling, a tech mogul who demanded I be as polished as his marble countertops. I gave up my art and my identity to fit his world, believing our upcoming wedding was the start of our forever. A mysterious text led me to a hidden folder in a calculator app on Archer’s phone. Inside were photos of him with his assistant, Mia, and texts calling me a "dead fish" and "manageable" collateral for his upcoming IPO. The humiliation peaked at my final bridal fitting. Archer ditched me for a hotel tryst with Mia, leaving me to overhear the salon staff mocking me as a "clueless gold digger." When I collapsed in the hallway, barefoot and broken, Archer didn't offer a hand. He only scolded me for "making a scene" and ordered me to be "supportive" of his busy schedule. The seven years I spent molding myself into his ideal woman were a lie. I wasn't his partner; I was a character in a play he wrote for his investors. My love had been met with calculated contempt, and my sacrifices were treated as his due. That night, I found Mia’s silk stockings shoved in my guest bathroom. The scent of her perfume in my home was the final breaking point. When Archer tried to touch me, my skin crawled with a physical rejection I couldn't mask. I locked the door, shredded the stockings, and called the one man Archer feared: Julian Van Der Bilt. "Does your offer for help include getting me out of here?" I asked. "Pack a bag," Julian’s voice rumbled through the dark. "I'll be there in twenty minutes. Don't let him see you leave."

I went to the bank to set up a trust fund for my twins, only to have the manager look at me with pity. "Mrs. Dunlap, the trust requires the *biological* mother's signature." I froze. I *was* their mother. Or so I thought. That day, I learned my husband, the most powerful Mafia Don on the coast, had used his ex-lover’s frozen eggs. For six years, I wasn't his wife. I was just the incubator. When his "true love," Iliana, returned from exile, my life disintegrated. My children, poisoned by her lies, pushed me down the stairs and called me "just the nanny." Gavyn didn't help me up. He stepped over my bleeding body to take his "real family" out for ice cream. But the ultimate betrayal happened on a windswept cliff. Staged by Iliana, we were both tied up, allegedly rigged to explode. Forced to choose who to save, Gavyn didn't hesitate. He cut Iliana loose. "You did this to yourself, Alex," he said, driving away with the children, leaving me to die. He thought he was leaving behind a corpse. He didn't know I had skimmed ten million dollars from the household accounts. "Cut me loose," I told the hitman, transferring the money. "And tell him the ocean took me." Two years later, the Don is on his knees in my garden, begging for a second chance. Too bad he has to get through my new fiancé first—the head of the rival cartel.

I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.

Everyone thought I was the pampered queen of Marcus D’Angelo, New York's most feared Don. But I was just a placeholder for the woman he couldn't have: his cousin, Izzy. The truth shattered everything at a family dinner. A waiter tripped, sending a tureen of scalding soup flying toward the table. Without a second of hesitation, Marcus threw himself over Izzy to shield her. He left me exposed. The boiling liquid seared my legs, but the real agony was watching him cradle her face, checking for scratches, while I screamed on the floor. "In my hierarchy of pain," he later told her, ignoring my burns, "her death is an inconvenience. A scratch on you is a tragedy." He didn't know that while he was comforting her over a bruise, I was in emergency surgery losing our unborn child. When I woke up, he didn't ask about me. He didn't ask about the baby he didn't know existed. instead, he asked if I would donate blood to help Izzy recover. That was the moment the old Liv died. I signed the divorce papers with a steady hand. And inside the envelope with the legal documents, I tucked a single, devastating medical report. *Diagnosis: Spontaneous Abortion. Cause: Trauma.* I left it on his desk and disappeared into the night. By the time he realizes he sacrificed his own heir to save his mistress, I will be a ghost he can never touch again.

My husband, Harrison Phelps, was the FBI's golden boy, the hero negotiator who never lost his cool. To the world, we were the perfect couple. Then a bank robbery went wrong. The desperate kidnapper grabbed two women as human shields: me, and Harrison's colleague, Brooke. He gave my husband a choice: save one. Through the megaphone, my husband's voice boomed, clear and decisive for the whole world to hear. "Let Brooke Shelton go! She is a national asset!" He rushed to embrace her, shielding her with his body, never once looking back at me. The kidnapper, enraged, turned his gun on me. I saw the flash before the world went black. I woke up in the hospital and the first thing I did was call a lawyer. I wanted a divorce. But he returned from retrieving our marriage certificate with a strange look on his face. "There's a problem, Mrs. Phelps," he said, sliding the document across the table. "According to official records, this was never filed. Legally, you were never married." Six years. Our home, our friends, our life-all built on a lie. It was all for her. He built a perfect, fake life with me just so he could wait for Brooke to come back.

My engagement party was supposed to be the culmination of seven years of love with Liam Miller, a public declaration before we started our lives as husband and wife. The room was filled with our closest friends and family, everything perfect, down to the white roses and the soft string quartet. But then, the video montage Liam prepared – a journey through our relationship – flickered. It cut to a sterile hospital room where Liam cradled a newborn baby with a tender joy I hadn't seen in years. Then the camera panned, revealing his assistant, Sarah Jenkins, in the hospital bed, wearing an engagement ring identical to mine. A collective gasp swept through the room as the music died, leaving deafening silence. Liam rushed to my side, whispering, "Chloe, calm down. Don't make a scene," before gaslighting everyone, calling it a "technical glitch" and dismissing my shock as "emotional." My world imploded. I stood there, humiliated, watching him protect her at my expense. The anger was cold and sharp as I walked to the stage, announcing, "It seems there's been a happy surprise. I wasn't aware we were celebrating two families tonight." I held up my hand, then pointed to Sarah, saying, "It seems Liam is a man of great generosity. So generous, in fact, that he's given out two of the same ring." I slid my diamond ring off and placed it on the tablecloth, telling him, "I wish you and Sarah double happiness. You clearly deserve each other." As I turned to leave, Liam grabbed my arm in the hallway, raging, "What the hell was that, Chloe? You humiliated me!" "You humiliated yourself, Liam," I retorted, realizing this wasn't just a betrayal; it was years of hidden lies. Back at our penthouse, a text from Sarah arrived with a photo of her wearing my custom-designed star-map bracelet-the one Liam was supposed to give me for my birthday next month. Her text read: "He says some things are just meant for the right person. Thanks for the design, Chloe. It's beautiful." The calculated cruelty of it stole the air from my lungs. Then Liam returned, offering a diamond necklace I' d seen on Sarah, trying to dismiss everything as "one mistake." He still didn't see it. He still chose her. After he left to care for their sick baby, my phone buzzed again with more texts from Sarah: screenshots revealing years of his lies-missed birthdays, fake business trips-all spent building a family with her. And then, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. I was pregnant. Two months along. Our own happy surprise. The baby. Our baby felt like a part of his deception. I couldn' t tie myself to him, to this pain. The decision made itself: I would cut him out of my life completely.

The stifling heat of my dorm room was the first sign. It clung to me like a wet blanket, a stark contrast to the cool relief of the hallway. Then came the sharp voice, Olivia' s, followed by the others, demanding I turn off the AC I' d just turned on. "Turn that off." "Yeah, turn it off. It' s freezing." They seemed unaffected, even as I sweltered. Then came the electricity bill: an exorbitant $485.62, more than double last month, which they insisted I pay, all of it. "What' s the matter, Chloe? Can' t afford it? I thought your family was rich." It was a blatant lie, a twisted mockery of my efforts to be fair, to be liked. The feeling of pure injustice burned within me. What had I done to deserve this escalating torment? "You're our personal ATM, Chloe. And we're not done making withdrawals." They weren't just taking my money; they were stripping away my dignity, piece by piece. My phone-my only lifeline-was next, then a brutal beating, culminating in my terrifying imprisonment in a dark, foul-smelling closet. My own father, Mr. Thompson, the university trustee, was just outside. He heard the fabricated lies, the slander about my character, and believed them, leaving me in that dark place, thinking he' d abandoned me. His quiet departure, the click of the door, felt like the end. But a final, desperate sound, a frantic phone call from my best friend Jessica, pierced through the despair, and then the thundering demand of my father' s voice, now raw with panic: "Open this door!" My fight for survival was just beginning.

They called us the brilliant Reed sisters, both surgeons. I was Evelyn, the older one, and in my last life, I poured everything into saving Daniel Sterling, the man I was supposed to marry. I sacrificed my career, my groundbreaking research, my very soul, all to make him whole. My younger sister, Sarah, was meant for Alexander Thorne, a dying tech mogul, in a high-risk medical trial, and she died tragically. Everyone thought Daniel adored me, but the moment he no longer needed me, he ruined me. He revoked my license, shattered my reputation, and cast me out, spitting, "Sarah was supposed to be my wife!" I died alone, broken and in debt, a shell of who I once was. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back, sitting in our living room, at the exact moment my fate was sealed. My parents worried, Sarah looked pale, and then came the words: One of us would marry Daniel Sterling, the other Alexander Thorne and his substantial compensation. Sarah, the selfless act perfected, whispered, "I can do it. I'll marry Mr. Thorne." In my past life, I fell for it, sacrificing myself for her. But this time, I saw the flicker of triumph in her eyes, I remembered Daniel's coldness. The words tasted like poison, but I forced them out, changing everything: "No, Sarah. You're right." To the stunned silence, I stated, "You said you would do it for the family. So you should marry Daniel Sterling." I turned to my parents, my voice clear. "I will marry CEO Alexander Thorne." Sarah's panic was real. "You love Daniel! You can't throw your life away!" Daniel burst in, disdain and anger on his handsome face. "Evelyn, what is this nonsense? Marry Alexander Thorne? Are you out of your mind?" He saw me as a transaction, a tool, but that realization no longer hurt. "I said," I repeated, my voice ringing with finality, "I am willing to marry CEO Alexander Thorne."

The familiar scent of my Aunt Carol' s pot roast once symbolized family, now it was the smell of my personal hell. My fiancé, Michael, sat beside me, urging me to eat, while my cousin Bethany feigned illness, subtly pressuring me to give up my Star-Tech internship for her. In my first life, I capitulated, sacrificing my hard-earned opportunity because Bethany "wanted" it, swayed by her theatrics and my family' s relentless pressure. That decision was the beginning of the end, leading to a life of quiet desperation, watching my dreams handed to my manipulative cousin while I was praised for my "understanding." It ended in a hospital bed, alone, broken, and dying, while Michael and Bethany planned their wedding. The cold, sterile memory of that flatlining heart monitor brought a wave of blinding nausea. But this time, it was different. This wasn' t a memory; it was a horrifying replay. "Actually," I stated, pulling my hand from Michael' s, my voice clear and steady as a bell, shocking everyone at the table, "I won' t be giving up the internship." A stunned silence fell, Bethany' s feigned sympathy replaced by immediate tears, Michael' s concern for her. My aunt snapped, calling me selfish, Bethany fragile. I pushed back my chair, declaring my decision was final, and walked out, leaving my untouched plate. This wasn' t a negotiation; it was a declaration of independence. The life they had planned for me was officially canceled. I sold my mother's jewelry, deleted Michael's texts, and applied to a university thousands of miles away. It was my second chance, a new beginning, and this time, I wouldn' t be a victim.

The last thing I remembered was the cold, damp earth on my knees, kneeling before Liam' s grave as my wife, Olivia, stood over me, her beautiful face a mask of pure hatred. "This is where you belong, Ethan. At his feet." I had believed her promise of a child, an heir, would free me from her cruel games and secure our future. Instead, her obsession with her dead childhood sweetheart, Liam, led her to deliberately delay the C-section for our twins, costing them their lives. Then, she had her guards beat me to death. But I woke up. In a sterile white hospital room, the rhythmic beeping of a machine in my ears, I saw Olivia, seemingly unchanged, on the phone, ordering the very delay that doomed our children in my first life. My heart, which I thought was empty, throbbed with a dull ache as she publicly declared another child - Liam' s son, Lucas - her sole heir, and callously ordered my own babies to be "gotten rid of." Paternal love surged, and I rushed to protect them, only to be struck down. I awoke again, beaten and framed for attacking them, mocked by Olivia and the fake Liam. Then came the chilling realization: Olivia, too, remembered. She knew about my "second chance" and taunted me with it. She used my dying father, his life hanging by a thread in the same hospital, as leverage. When I reluctantly agreed to her demands, she killed him right in front of me, shattering my world. Imprisoned in the dark basement of our old mansion with the bodies of my dead children, utter despair consumed me. How could this be happening again? Why did she hate me so much, across two lifetimes? Why couldn't I escape this nightmare? But Olivia's twisted victory was short-lived. The very betrayal she orchestrated began to unravel, revealing Liam' s true identity as a con man and Lucas as a stranger' s child. The architect of my torment had built her empire on a foundation of lies, and now, it was all about to come crashing down.

"Don't you dare mess this up, Gabrielle," my mother hissed, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. She' d arranged a "golden ticket" meeting with a wealthy heir, supposedly for my future. But a chilling warning about my best friend Molly, "Don't let Molly anywhere near this. She'll ruin it," echoed eerily. Suddenly, a flood of memories hit me: torn clothes, fake bruises, the heavy impact, the world going dark. I remembered my last life – my mother' s "warning" then, my loyal defense of Molly, and the brutal consequence: my own murder. Molly, my supposed best friend, was my mother' s secret daughter. They orchestrated my death, took everything my father left me, and my mother even married the man who killed me. I was confused, heartbroken, then consumed by a profound sense of betrayal and injustice. How could my own mother conspire in my death, with her lover and their secret child, stealing my entire inheritance? And why couldn't I see it then? But this time, I' m back. I' m in the car, moments before it all begins. And this time, I am not the victim. I am the hunter. The game has changed.

In the glittering, cutthroat world of D.C. politics, I was Ava Reed: the neglected half-sister, the family's quiet secret. When my half-sister Scarlett accidentally killed an investigative journalist, our powerful Senator father, in a panic, decided to frame me for the crime. My childhood crush, Noah Vanderbilt, seemed to offer escape, but I quickly discovered their true intent was to silence me permanently. I ran, only to be ambushed, drugged, and left for dead. My "ashes" were secretly mixed into the walls of the family mansion, my "skull" hidden as a gruesome trophy. For three years, I existed as a disembodied ghost, witnessing Noah meticulously dismantle my former tormentors, culminating in his shocking engagement to Scarlett. My hatred burned hotter than ever; why would the man I loved align himself with the very people who destroyed me? This elaborate revenge, this chilling betrayal of my memory, perplexed me. But what if the ghost wasn't just haunting them, and what if Noah wasn't betraying me at all? What if my 'death' was a deliberate fiction, orchestrated by the man who truly saved my life, and this entire, elaborate vengeance was for me?

Anya, a devoted Shepherd, awoke on the damp earth of the Solstice Retreat, the familiar scent of pine filling her lungs. It should have been a serene morning, filled with ancient rituals and quiet reverence, just like all the years before. But then the memories crashed in-the screams, the blood, Brother Micah, their beloved Luminary, twisting into a monstrous destroyer. Her own Spirit Core, once vibrant, shattered by his hand, plunging her into the cold, silent despair of the Abyssal Void. She had lived it: betrayed by those she trusted, sacrificed by Micah in his warped pursuit of power, and left for dead in a cosmic emptiness. The Vale, her home, reduced to ashes, its people annihilated, all because she hadn't seen the truth until it was too late. Now, she was back, breathing, under the same canopy where the nightmare began. The relief was dizzying, but it was poisoned by the crushing weight of her foreknowledge. Micah, serene and false, was out there, preparing to shatter their world. How could anyone be so thoroughly, perfectly deceived? But this time, she wouldn' t run, she wouldn' t scream, and she certainly wouldn' t be a naive lamb. Anya had been given an impossible second chance, a terrifying rebirth. She would tear down the deception piece by piece, starting now, before the end could ever begin again.

Ethan Cole, king of art authentication, wielded a legendary "Midas Touch." His sharp eye and impeccable reputation built an empire with his ambitious wife, Izzy Thorne, a titan of the New York art scene. Then, the unthinkable: a "lost masterwork" he vouched for, the Seraphini, was exposed as a masterful fake. His two-decade career shattered overnight. The ultimate blow came from his own home: Izzy, dismissing his claims of sabotage, stood by her slick protégé, Leo Vance, implying Ethan's 'rigidity' was to blame. The fallout was brutal. Ethan was systematically bankrupted, his office silenced. Years later, his gravely ill father and crumbling family business forced him back into the lion's den of the auction house. There, Izzy, with Leo by her side, publicly savaged him, outbidding him, then mockingly "gifting" him a worthless, grimy canvas. His drawing hand was 'accidentally' crushed. How could the woman he loved, his empire-building partner, be so utterly ruthless? Was this mere payback, or had deeper, sinister machinations been at play, orchestrated by the seemingly innocent Leo? Injured and stripped bare, the crushing weight of betrayal was unbearable. But Ethan Cole was no stranger to shadows. With his injured hand throbbing, his father's life on the line, he gripped his last hope: an ancient, filthy canvas from the auction's "unverified lots" no one else dared touch. He knew the greatest treasures hide in plain sight, waiting for the right touch. This was his desperate gamble, his last chance to save everything and unleash his legendary Midas Touch.

My brother David's St. Florian's medallion, a cool silver comfort against my palm, was my anchor, a constant reminder of the hero I'd lost three years ago in the city blaze. His best friend, Mark, became my fiancé, a bond everyone insisted David would have blessed, yet his growing neglect felt like a deepening shadow. On David's death anniversary, Mark, unapologetically distant, sent his brazen new girlfriend, Jessica, not just to fetch keys, but to gloat, turning Mark's dismissive neglect of my pain into a sneer about my "sensitivity." The humiliation deepened when Jessica 'accidentally' destroyed David's cherished firefighter helmet and a precious childhood figurine, Mark instantly defending her, dismissing my brother's legacy as "just an old thing" while showering Jessica with affection. He then brazenly paraded his affair, actively portraying me to others as "difficult" and claiming my heartbreak was a "small price to pay" for his newfound happiness with Jessica. How could the man who promised to honor David' s memory, David' s own best friend, allow such desecration, gaslighting my grief and trampling on sacred bonds with such callous disregard? The white-hot rage, a purifying fire, ignited an unwavering resolve; David's medallion, once a symbol of loss, became the silent marker of my audacious, meticulously planned escape. They had no idea the heartbroken woman they casually broke was about to orchestrate their spectacular public unraveling, cementing her own dramatic rebirth into freedom.

Ava Thompson, a renowned concert pianist, had a life that felt like a perfectly orchestrated symphony. Her husband, Mark Chandler, an architect from a powerful family, was her biggest fan, her rock, their love a fortress built over shared dreams and quiet evenings. Her quiet, seemingly sweet cousin, Lila Hayes, lived with them, a shadow Ava had welcomed into their sunshine. The first dissonance struck when Lila's prized Persian cat, Snowball, vanished. Then came Lila's theatrical despair, followed by her chilling accusation: "You did this!" She dramatically "found" a crudely written note: "Stay away from my husband. Next time, it won't be the cat that disappears." She claimed I wrote it. My heart pounded, expecting Mark to laugh it off, to defend me. He didn't. His eyes, once full of love, turned cold, filled with a chilling disappointment. He believed her. He banished me to our secluded lake house, confiscating my phone and keys, isolating me completely. A week later, he made me his spectacle: dressing me in a maid's uniform, fastening a jangling cat collar around my neck, and then, in front of our high-society circle, he leashed me to the veranda post like an animal. My Mark, the man who called me "magic," who vowed he couldn't breathe without me, orchestrated this grotesque public humiliation. Was it all a lie? How could years of devotion dissolve in the face of my cousin's fabricated malice? My spirit had been crushed, but as the storm raged, desperation ignited a spark. Bleeding and barefoot, I smashed a window, tearing off the mocking bell, and made a desperate call for help. They thought they had killed Ava Thompson. They were about to witness her rebirth, stronger and deadlier than ever, ready to reclaim her life and expose their monstrous betrayal.

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.

As a wolfless charity case at the Hyde Pack's celebration, my world shattered when Braydon, my supposed protector, publicly announced Katherine Parrish as his Luna, erasing me. Heartbroken, I fled into a terrifying contract marriage with Alpha King Dallas Marshall for protection. Braydon's public assault and threats forced me to reveal my secret marriage, challenging the King. My "protection" felt like a prison. Braydon revealed I was a "key" to power, not a mate, confirming my fears. Enraged by my attempt to take a morning-after pill, Dallas forced me to swallow it, then branded my lips with a furious kiss. His chilling silence hardened my resolve. I immediately drafted an addendum to our contract, setting strict boundaries to reclaim control.

Narine never expected to survive. Not after what was done to her body, mind, and soul. But fate had other plans. Rescued by Supreme Alpha Sargis, the kingdom's most feared ruler, she finds herself under the protection of a man she doesn't know... and a bond she doesn't understand. Sargis is no stranger to sacrifice. Ruthless, ambitious, and loyal to the sacred matebond, he's spent years searching for the soul fate promised him, never imagining she would come to him broken, on the brink of death, and afraid of her own shadow. He never meant to fall for her... but he does. Hard and fast. And he'll burn the world before letting anyone hurt her again. What begins in silence between two fractured souls slowly grows into something intimate and real. But healing is never linear. With the court whispering, the past clawing at their heels, and the future hanging by a thread, their bond is tested again and again. Because falling in love is one thing. Surviving it? That's a war of its own. Narine must decide, can she survive being loved by a man who burns like fire, when all she's ever known is how not to feel? Will she shrink for the sake of peace, or rise as Queen for the sake of his soul? For readers who believe even the most fractured souls can be whole again, and that true love doesn't save you. It stands beside you while you save yourself.

Luna has tried her best to make her forced marriage to Xen work for the sake of their child. But with Riley and Sophia- Xen's ex-girlfriend and her son in the picture. She fights a losing battle. Ollie, Xen's son is neglected by his father for a very long time and he is also suffering from a mysterious sickness that's draining his life force. When his last wish to have his dad come to his 5th birthday party is dashed by his failure to show up, Ollie dies in an accident after seeing his father celebrate Riley's birthday with Sophia and it's displayed on the big advertising boards that fill the city. Ollie dies and Luna follows after, unable to bear the grief, dying in her mate's hands cursing him and begging for a second chance to save her son. Luna gets the opportunity and is woken up in the past, exactly one year to the day Sophia and Riley show up. But this time around, Luna is willing to get rid of everyone and anyone even her mate if he steps in her way to save her son.

Life was a bed of roses for Debra, the daughter of Alpha. That was until she had a one-night stand with Caleb. She was sure he was her mate as determined by Moon Goddess. But this hateful man refused to accept her. Weeks passed before Debra discovered that she was pregnant. Her pregnancy brought shame to her and everyone she loved. Not only was she driven out, but her father was also hunted down by usurpers. Fortunately, she survived with the help of the mysterious Thorn Edge Pack. Five years passed and Debra didn't hear anything from Caleb. One day, their paths crossed again. They were both on the same mission-carrying out secret investigations in the dangerous Roz Town for the safety and posterity of their respective packs. Caleb was still cold toward her. But as time went on, he fell head over heels in love with her. He tried to make up for abandoning her, but Debra wasn't having any of it. She was hell-bent on hiding her daughter from him and also making a clean break. What did the future hold for the two as they journeyed in Roz Town? What kind of secrets would they find? Would Caleb win Debra's heart and get to know his lovely daughter? Find out!

Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.

He left her on the streets. His brother-in-law picked her up. and made her his wife. On the day her ex, Mark, married the wealthy socialite Bella, Elena was thrown out with nothing but the clothes on her back-humiliated, broken, and utterly alone. Until Eric Thompson appeared. Bella's older brother. Mark's powerful brother-in-law. And the most feared Alpha in the city. He offered her a hand when no one else would. Then, he offered her a deal: A marriage in name only. A shield against her past. A chance to rebuild. Elena accepted, expecting a cold arrangement between strangers. But behind closed doors, Eric's carefully guarded control unraveled-and so did hers. Their chemistry was explosive, their nights intense, and the lines between business and pleasure blurred beyond recognition. He was the one man she could never have. and the only one she couldn't resist. But when Mark realizes what he truly lost, and Bella discovers the secret behind her brother's bride, Elena must decide: Is this just a contract? Or is this the love she was always meant to fight for?

I gave him three years of silent devotion behind a mask I never wanted to wear. I made a wager for our bond-he paid me off like a mistress. "Chloe's back," Zane said coldly. "It's over." I laughed, poured wine on his face, and walked away from the only love I'd ever known. "What now?" my best friend asked. I smiled. "The real me returns." But fate wasn't finished yet. That same night, Caesar Conrad-the Alpha every wolf feared-opened his car door and whispered, "Get in." Our gazes collided. The bond awakened. No games. No pretending. Just raw, unstoppable power. "Don't regret this," he warned, lips brushing mine. But I didn't. Because the mate I'd been chasing never saw me. And the one who did? He's ready to burn the world for me.

Rejected by her mate, who had been her long-time crush, Jasmine felt utterly humiliated. Seeking solace, she headed to a party to drown her sorrows. But things took a turn for the worse when her friends issued a cruel dare: kiss a stranger or beg her mate for forgiveness. With no other choice, Jasmine approached a stranger and kissed him, thinking that would be the end of it. However, the stranger unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, "You're mine!" He growled, his words sending shivers down her spine. And then, he offered her a solution that would change everything...

I was dying at the banquet, coughing up black blood while the pack celebrated my step-sister Lydia’s promotion. Across the room, Caleb, the Alpha and my Fated Mate, didn't look concerned. He looked annoyed. "Stop it, Elena," his voice boomed in my head. "Don't ruin this night with your attention-seeking lies." I begged him, telling him it was poison, but he just ordered me to leave his Pack House so I wouldn't dirty the floor. Heartbroken, I publicly demanded the Severing Ceremony to break our bond and left to die alone in a cheap motel. Only after I took my last breath did the truth come out. I sent Caleb the medical records proving Lydia had been poisoning my tea with wolfsbane for ten years. He went mad with grief, realizing he had protected the murderer and rejected his true mate. He tortured Lydia, but his regret couldn't bring me back. Or so he thought. In the afterlife, the Moon Goddess showed me my reflection. I wasn't a wolfless weakling. I was a White Wolf, the rarest and most powerful of all, suppressed by poison. "You can stay here in peace," the Goddess said. "Or you can go back." I looked at the life they stole from me. I looked at the power I never got to use. "I want to go back," I said. "Not for his love. But for revenge." I opened my eyes, and for the first time in my life, my wolf roared.